


Heatwave

by iwillgodownwiththisship84



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, But I really can’t help it with these two..., Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Ice Play, M/M, Nothing but smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 15:22:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17490431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillgodownwiththisship84/pseuds/iwillgodownwiththisship84
Summary: Set in the summer of 2018 between Wimbledon and Toronto when Europe (and especially the Spanish peninsula) were ‘sweating’ a pretty serious heatwave...Just an excuse for some even sweatier antics from my OTP!





	Heatwave

**Author's Note:**

> Argh...what a day! Such an upset (in more ways than one), so sad for Roger and so sick of the critics on my TT once again calling for his retirement (though I’m starting to feel like there could be something to this Uniqlo curse!) Yes, Stef played well, but am I the only one backing him through the QF so he has to face Rafa in the SF (you beat my man, I break your serve!)?
> 
> Anyways, I’d already started this one before posting ‘Breakfast In Bed’ and decided to try and finish it at the behest of ‘clairekang’ - after today’s shock, it was my only saving grace, to immerse myself in Fedal and hope it makes everyone feel a little bit better!

“Ugh... _es_ _demasiado_ _caliente_! Is too hot!”

Not moving from his recumbent position on the couch, Roger opened one eye to see a grumbling Rafa entering the house, carrying two bulging shopping bags.

He dumped them on the island counter in the adjoining kitchen before removing his sunglasses and toeing off his flip flops. Then to Roger’s delight, he peeled off his sweat-soaked t-shirt, revealing his sculpted torso, and used it to wipe the perspiration from his brow.

Instantly more alert, Roger’s eyes followed Rafa as he hastened to unpack the groceries, watching the muscles flex in his back as he stretched to put something away in one of the top cupboards, and enjoying the way his shorts clung to his gorgeous arse when he bent over. Opening the refrigerator, he gave a little sigh of pleasure at the rush of cold air and Roger’s cock twitched in his own shorts.

“You want water with the ice?”

His brain busy conjuring up some deliciously filthy ideas, it took Roger a few seconds to realise Rafa was talking to him. Seeing him holding up the water jug, he nodded mutely and Rafa poured out two glasses, adding ice from the dispenser and bringing one over to Roger.

Up close, Roger couldn’t resist the temptation of all that golden skin, taking the glass with one hand and curling the other around Rafa’s hip. Realising his intention, the Spaniard tried to pull away.

“No, Roger, is too hot...I all sweaty...”

Roger gave him a look as though to ask when that had ever bothered him before, fondly remembering all their more recent embraces at the net after long, sweat-inducing matches and later in the locker rooms, where neither of them had been concerned with waiting to shower before their hands were roaming beneath each other’s clothes. Setting his glass down on a table next to the sofa, he used both hands to tug a reluctant Rafa into his lap.

The manoeuvre brought his hardening cock into alignment with Rafa’s, causing them both to gasp into each other’s mouths as their lips caught. His hands greedily mapped Rafa’s upper body while he sought the leverage to thrust upwards into the cradle of his thighs.

For all of his protestations, Rafa was soon rocking his hips back and forth in search of much-needed friction and one of Roger’s hands slid down to his arse to encourage him, while his mouth shifted to his neck, nipping gently at his collarbone and licking at the sweat pooling in the hollow of his throat.

The Spaniard’s eyes were closed and hot little moans were tripping out of his mouth, a prelude to the symphony to come. Rafa was as incapable of being quiet during sex as he was on a tennis court and it had always been a little distracting whenever they played together.

Pulling back slightly, he reached over to his glass of water and fished out an ice cube, before pressing it against Rafa’s right nipple and delighting in the hiss that escaped his lover.

“Thought you were hot, baby...going to cool you down, yeah?”

Fuck, he loved how sensitive Rafa’s nipples were, how responsive he was. He circled the other man’s now pebbled nub with the melting cube, the intense sensations driving Rafa to move faster against him until they were both in danger of coming in their shorts.

“Ugh, Raf...need to slow down...don’t want to come yet...”

He seized hold of the Spaniard’s hips to halt them and his eyes slid open, nearly black with arousal. He dragged himself off of Roger’s lap and pushed his shorts and tight white boxer briefs to the floor in one go, freeing his cock. Roger eyed it hungrily, hard and thick with blood and the head already wet with pre-come.

He whipped off his t-shirt and lifted his hips to slip off his own shorts and underwear, Rafa kneeling to help him accomplish the task before licking a stripe up his rock hard cock and then engulfing the head in his mouth.

“Raf...your knees...”

Roger managed to hold onto his faculties long enough to spare a thought for how Rafa’s position might cause further damage to an already troublesome part of his body. With an arch of his eyebrow, Rafa pulled back briefly to grab one of the larger throw pillows from off the sofa and slide it beneath his knees to cushion them from the hard tiled floor, before resuming his efforts to drive Roger to distraction.

It felt incredible - the liquid heat of Rafa’s mouth surrounding him, his eyes not leaving Roger’s as he slid it up and down his shaft and his throat massaging the head when he took him to the root. And it was also a tantalising sight, watching Rafa’s pink, spit-slick lips stretched wide around him, his cheeks hollowed-out. It was tempting to let him keep going until he came, to shoot his load into that pretty mouth and watch him swallow it all down, but then Roger could never pass up a chance to be inside Rafa’s beautiful tight arse.

Cupping the back of his neck and tangling his fingers in Rafa’s hair, he eased him back until the Spaniard released him, and then dragged him up to press a kiss to his lips, tasting himself on his tongue.

“Upstairs...bedroom...” he announced on a groan, but Rafa shook his head.

“Too far...”

Roger chuckled softly against his mouth, his hand skimming down between the cheeks of Rafa’s arse to swipe a dry fingertip over his hole.

“I know, baby, but we need lube...”

Rafa shook his head again. “No...is here. We run out, remember? I just buy more, no?”

He hauled himself upright, padding over to the kitchen island, with Roger following, unwilling to be separated from him for even a minute. He grabbed one of the half-empty shopping bags and pulled out an unopened tube, handing it to Roger who immediately flipped open the cap and squeezed some of the gel onto his fingers. He manoeuvred Rafa until he was leaning against the counter, his body perfectly angled to display his arse, and slid his slick digits down into his cleft.

Rafa arched his back with a filthy moan that went straight to Roger’s cock as he rubbed over his puckered entrance, feeling it slowly relax and yield to the demand of his fingers. Fuck, but Rafa had an amazing arse, round and firm and...deep. And he had a terrible habit of bending over in Roger’s vicinity, when he was unable to stop his eyes from wandering to it, imagining what he could do with it, and to it.

“Mmm, baby, so tight...always so tight. And so hungry for my fingers...can’t wait to get my cock inside you...”

As he probed deeper, stretching him and zeroing in on that sweet spot inside him that made him jerk and drew from him the most beautiful sounds, he spared a momentary glance across the room to the floor to ceiling windows which flanked the south-east wall of the property that overlooked the bay of Porto Cristo - Rafa’s house was in a secluded spot along the coast with a private beach so it was doubtful that anyone would be able to see them.

The secrecy of their relationship often clashed with Roger’s naturally tactile impulses and though he might occasionally fantasise about having Rafa somewhere where they might possibly be seen, it was most likely connected to his sometime musings of what it would actually be like to be able to touch Rafa however and whenever he wanted, like any other lover would.

He could feel Rafa struggling against the rising pleasure evoked by Roger’s practiced fingers, pushing back on them and begging Roger to replace them with his cock.

“¡ _Carajo_!... _por_ _favor_ , Roger... _lo_ _necesito_...”

Seeing him reach for his own leaking dick, Roger was quick to put a stop to it, dragging away his wandering hand and pressing it against the counter top.

“Uh uh...” He shook his head. “Keep them where I can see them...”

Removing his fingers from Rafa, he grabbed the lube and dribbled it over his achingly hard cock, biting his lip as he dragged his hand up and down to evenly cover it. Roger was incredibly glad they’d stopped using condoms recently - the difference was mind-blowing. In fact the first time they’d done it bare, he’d come embarrassingly quickly, although thankfully Rafa hadn’t been far behind him. And afterwards, the thought of that gorgeous arse being full up with his release, and then watching it trickle out of his loosened hole when he’d pulled out, had sent the blood rushing back to his cock with a vengeance.

He slid a leg between both of Rafa’s, coaxing him to widen his stance, then with one hand holding apart his cheeks, Roger pressed his cock against his lube-slick rim. He pushed forward, luxuriating in the feeling of Rafa’s body yielding, and the sweet, wet glide into his heat. After bottoming out, he paused briefly to enjoy the delicious grip of Rafa’s internal muscles, before drawing back and then thrusting deep again, his rolling hips quickly finding a perfect rhythm.

“Fuck, Raf, you feel so good...the perfect fit. Like you were made to take my cock.”

Rafa moaned and cursed again in Spanish at Roger’s words coupled with the head of his cock grazing his prostate on every stroke.

Placing his own hand on the counter to anchor himself, he pressed closer, plastering his chest against Rafa’s back and putting his mouth in reach of the nape of his neck. He sucked on the spot below his ear and then pushed aside his damp hair to nibble lightly at the juncture between his neck and shoulder. Hearing Rafa’s whimper, he felt the temptation to carry on, to mark his beautiful skin.

He fondly remembered the one he’d left on Rafa’s left bicep a few weeks earlier when he’d come to Paris during Roland Garros to attend a sponsorship event. As well as having to avoid wearing anything sleeveless, even during practice, Rafa had apparently received some ribbing in the locker room from other members of the Armada, although they’d all believed that Mery had been the culprit.

When Rafa started to quiver around him, Roger knew he was close and on a sudden whim, he pulled out his cock, causing the Spaniard to sob in protest.

“Shhh, baby, I want to see your face when you come...”

He dragged Rafa upright and manoeuvred him back over to the sofa and onto his back, grabbing a cushion and tucking it under his hips. Lifting his legs to hook them over his shoulders, Roger pushed his thighs backwards until his hole was visible, then taking his cock in hand, he pressed it against the puckered opening and groaned as he watched it disappear inside.

This was the home straight, both of them now barrelling towards orgasm, their shallow breaths and harsh groans blending with the smack of colliding flesh. Rafa’s eyes were squeezed shut, his cock caught between their bodies and stimulated by the inevitable friction.

“You going to come for me, baby?” Roger urged.

“ _Sí_ , _sí_...Roger, _por_ _favor_...”

Suddenly spotting Rafa’s half-drunk glass of water within reaching distance, Roger pulled back slightly, enough to retrieve the only remaining ice cube from it.

“Open your eyes for me, baby...come on, Raf, I want to see you.”

At Roger’s plea, Rafa’s eyes slid open, his pupils fully dilated, and at the same moment, Roger pressed the almost melted cube against the sensitive strip of skin behind his balls.

Rafa screamed and came with a full-body jerk, his cock untouched, and painting his chest and abs with pulsing streaks of white. His arse contracted around Roger’s cock, snapping what little remained of his control, his thrusting growing erratic as he chased down his own orgasm, while Rafa was able to regain enough of his senses to spur him on.

“ _Sí_ , Roger...¡ _vamos_!...I want to feel you...”

The tell-tale tingling at the base of his spine finally reached a crescendo and he stiffened, his whole body pitching forward as he unloaded into Rafa’s still quivering arse.

As he came down, he pressed his mouth against Rafa’s, uttering a whispered ‘fuck’ against his lips, before dipping his finger into the come still smeared across his torso and bringing it to his lips to suck it clean, chuckling lightly at the aftershock that rippled through the Spaniard’s body.

Roger smiled softly as he gazed upon the always beautiful sight of a post-coital Rafa, with his half-closed eyes and fucked-out expression.

“Shower?”

Rafa nodded. “Need to move or will have to call cleaning service again, no?”

Roger threw him a teasing grin. “Yeah, you don’t want to have to explain how you got come stains on your couch again...”


End file.
